


Strangeness and Charm

by Zillyhoo



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23102623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillyhoo/pseuds/Zillyhoo
Summary: Alucard is wearing a nightgown fit for your late Nana and you've never wanted him more.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Reader
Kudos: 137





	Strangeness and Charm

“Maybe I should get a coffin to sleep in.”

“Because you'd rather be dead than seen in that gown?” You crawl on to the bed, advancing on the handsome dhampir wearing a gown fit for your late Nana.

It's a nearly cloudless night, and the moonlight falls through the window easily. It highlights Alucard's pale skin, and that ridiculous nightgown he has on. It's hard to concentrate, because his body is shaking with laughter at your remark.

“I'll have you know, these are quite popular.”

“With the undead and the elderly, maybe,” you mutter under your breath, earning a look of amusement from Alucard. Right. Vampire hearing.

“What would you consider proper night attire, then? By all means, educate me.” He sits up and looks at you expectantly, before raising an eyebrow. “...Is that my shirt?” Oops. Caught red handed.

“The proper attire for someone like you is absolutely nothing. Wearing clothes should be considered a crime.”

“Someone like me?” He sounds genuinely curious, and it dawns on you that he actually has zero clue about how stupidly attractive he is.

“Someone like you,” you start again, pushing him onto his back so you can straddle him properly. His blush isn't lost on you, and bolsters your courage. “Beautiful. Otherworldly. One might even say, oh, I dunno... ethereal?”

“You flatter me.” He doesn't sound flattered. In fact, he almost sounds suspicious. Guarded. It breaks your heart, though you can't blame him. So many people have tried to take advantage of him in the brief year he's been above ground. If you had been him, you would have happily crawled back into your coffin for another year of undisturbed sleep. Even unprovoked, that sounds like a grand plan.

Focus. Alucard, pretty. Doesn't know it, and doesn't believe it when you say it.

Well, if you can't tell him how pretty he is, maybe you can show him. Words were never your strong suit, anyway.

You lean forward and brush your lips over his, a ghost of a touch. A question: Are you okay with this?

He furrows his brows, as if he's not entirely sure it happened at all. His eyes meet yours, questioning, so you kiss him again, bringing one hand up to caress the side of his face. His hand finds its way to your waist, so you deepen the kiss, delighted when his lips part on something caught between a sigh and a moan. You're mindful of his fangs, though you're fascinated by them, and not at all opposed to the slight risk they pose. His mouth is hot under yours, his voice velvet, and its all you can do to keep from grinding your hips down against his.

You move your hands into his hair, soft silky waves between your fingers, and now its your turn to moan. A well kept man is hard to find these days, and with Alucard, it seems so effortless. Part of you is jealous, knowing damn well his hair is softer than yours. You'll ply him for secrets later, but for now, there are more important things to do. Like getting rid of that gown.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss. You're both panting, and you can't stop staring at the way his fangs rest on his plush bottom lip. His eyelashes are so long, they cast shadows over his cheeks.

“You're staring,” he murmurs.

“Am I?” You're so beautiful, I wonder how you're real. ...As if you're gonna own up to that thought.

In one fluid motion, you slide your shirt, or more appropriately, his shirt, off of you, baring yourself to him. It's hard not to laugh at the way his honey colored eyes cloud over with lust when they find your breasts. Even more comical is the lace of his gown tickling the inside of your leg.

You lean back so he can shed the frilly thing, and heat pulses through you when there's nothing but skin between the two of you. Your legs wrap around his waist once more, and this time you can't stop yourself from rolling your hips. His back arches, and in that moment, his throat is bared to you. You kiss it before running your tongue over the smooth skin, pausing to suck greedily. 

How ironic. The human ravaging the vampire's neck.

“I meant what I said,” you murmur against him. “You're beautiful.”

“As are you...”

“Yes I am, but this is about you, not me.” You nip over the spot you were kissing, a light reprimand. Before he can counter, you bring his hands up to your breasts, seemingly cutting off his ability to form coherent thoughts. It sort of back fires, because your mind goes blank when his cool thumbs roll over your nipples.

Focus.

You trail kisses along the line of his jaw, pausing to nibble at his earlobe, before moving down from his neck to his shoulder. One hand trails along the scar on his chest, tracing it carefully.

A soft noise of approval slips out when you feel his hand slide down your back. Pretty soon he's gripping your ass and you're helplessly grinding against him, not even trying to quiet your moans. With a herculean effort, you force your hips to a stop, pausing to revel in the frustrated noise he gives in response.

You bring his hands up to kiss them both before repositioning yourself between his legs. You grip his cock gently as you place kisses over his stomach, hips, and between his legs. The way he grips the sheets doesn't escape your notice, and he lets out a ragged moan when you start to suck on the inside of his thigh. You really did intend to take your time, to kiss every inch of that beautiful skin, to infuse each touch with equal parts desire and adoration. ...But at the end of the day, you're a slut through and through, so you cave and take the head of his cock in your mouth, moaning as you lap up the pearl of precum waiting for you at the tip.

Alucard throws one arm over his eyes and uses the other to dig his claws in to the sheets as you take his cock in deeper, pausing to even your breath before bringing him closer to your throat. He jerks wildly, effectively choking you, but the noise that tears from his throat is well worth the burn. He's heavy on your tongue, and you're tempted to suck every drop he has to give, but the ache between your legs is persistent, and you're too selfish to wait for another round.

You suck until his cock is dribbling precum and reluctantly pull away, earning a pained moan of disappointment.

“Fuck, you're going to be the death of me...” The usual velvet purr of his voice is now hoarse and strained, and you feel a budding sense of accomplishment at the sound of it.

You hover over him, rubbing against his cock teasingly before slowly sinking down on it, reveling in the way your slick walls stretch to accommodate him. The ragged cry he gives when you take him in makes you throb around him and ache in the best way. His mouth finds yours, and you fist your hands in his hair as you bounce on his cock, eyes rolling back when you find your rhythm. A particularly deep thrust has you keening.

“Alucard-...!” He sucks one of your nipples and rubs the other until both are swollen with need, causing your hips to stutter. You're not going to last at this rate. He likes it slow and deep, and each time you sink down, he thrusts up, burying his cock in your heat. You want it to last forever. You want to come. You want that tight pressure to keep building, to lose yourself in it, lose yourself in him. You want to go all night, but your legs are trembling, and when his fingers drag over your clit and rub it in tight circles, it's all you can do to keep yourself upright.

His hips jerk and you cry out as your orgasm takes you down hard, vision flickering as you cum on his cock. He pistons his hips, and his eyes flash that feral yellow right before he buries himself to the hilt. You feel his cock pulse with each hot spurt of cum spilling inside you. His lips are parted on a moan, fangs glinting in the scant light, and you commit his expression to memory before slumping down against him.

His breathing returns to normal far quicker than yours, and he traces lazy patterns on your shoulder while you recover. You peek up at him, pleased to find him looking back at you sleepily.

“Better than a coffin?”

“Better than a coffin,” he affirms, closing his eyes after pulling you against his chest.


End file.
